The Legacy
by Luciyel
Summary: A violent murder in South Park and the consequences. KennyButters slash, maybe hints of other pairings. Rated M for language, violent imagery and sex.
1. The Funeral

The Funeral

It was the 9th of september. South Park's biggest church was half-filled with mourning people just when the funeral was about to begin. The rainstorm roaming the town seemed to fit nicely into the general mood. Not many people were crying though. Actually it was only one person who stained one tissue after the other with tears.

"Why him? Why?" Linda Stotch sobbed, turning her head to her only son. She wore a fancy black dress and even her cheeks were partly black from the make-up-colored tears. A veil made of thin black lace hung limply from her small hat.

Butters looked at his mother worriedly. He did not quite know what to say, the shock was still sitting in his bones. Only a day had passed since his father had been found dead, now what was he to do? What the heck was he to say to a woman who just lost her beloved husband?

The boy smoothed out his shirt in an awkward manner, moving his hands just for the sake of moving at all. His fingers then turned to fidgeting with the black tie he wore. It was way too tight, he felt as if he was about to choke.

"Chris Stotch was a respected man, loving husband and caring father", the priest started his speech in a droning voice. "We all shall prey and hope that god takes him gently into his arms, giving him eternal rest in heaven."

A couple of flies buzzed over the open coffin.

Eric Cartman mimicked a wide yawn as the priest talked on. He just thought about how nice it would be to have a bag of cheesy poofs while he had to listen to the speech when Stan nudged him hard into the ribs.

"What?" Cartman replied in a low voice, scanning his friend. "You bored 'cause your jewish friend isn't here?"

Stan just shook his head and shot an ugly look at Eric. Then he turned his attention back to the front. He could not help but notice a very strong flowery scent that came from the coffin. It almost made him sick though he did not sit in the first row.

Kenny had a black scarf pulled over his mouth and nose, first because of the cold, now because of the stench. Those were the times when he really missed his orange parka. Scarves were fine, but they did not hide everything.

He did not talk at all, neither did he follow the speech. What was death anyway? Only another step in life, sometimes even a step you could take back again.

o

After some time, the speeches were over. Butters himself had managed to avoid speaking. It had been enough of an embarassment to watch his mother sobbing in front of his schoolmates. He really did not need to make it worse, having no rhetoric talent at all.

Shortly before the funeral was over, there was time for everyone to bid the corpse one last farewell. Butters and his mother were the first people to visit the open coffin. Each of them brought a white rose along.

Linda placed the rose right next to her husband's face. She did not seem to notice the wounds on the dead body, Butters on the other hand saw them clearly. He held back his retching when he saw a piece of the bowels that had fallen out of his father's stomach. The undertakers had tried to do their best but it seemed not to be good enough. The artificial smell of flowers and the stench of decay did not appear to be the best composition.

Butters quickly threw the rose into the coffin and walked on. He still could not cry. The sight of his father's severed corpse was way too much for him.

All that was left of Chris Stotch was the memory of a dead body that had been stabbed through and through.

And how would Butters celebrate his 17th birthday?


	2. The News

After I totally missed to write a comment for the first chapter, now here's the second one. This is my first english fanfiction, my first South Park fanfiction, and my first fanfiction on Please forgive me the mistakes I am prone to make, my mother tongue is still german...  
Well, that's it so far! And now for a disclaimer: None of the characters in this story belongs to me. They all are (c) Matt Stone & Trey Parker. I suppose.

The News

The 10th of september was still a rainy day. Not as stormy as the previous, but still pretty cold and wet.

In the cafeteria of South Park High everything seemed to proceed as normal, for everyone except Butters maybe. He sat alone at a table, his longish bangs wet with what was obviously rain. Though he really liked pasta, that day there was no food in the world that would have tasted right in his mouth. With a weary look in his eyes, he poked the heap of spaghetti on his plate. The blonde boy was well aware of the fact that even more people seemed to avoid him since the funeral. But then again, he was not in the mood for talking to others anyway, let alone hearing their halfhearted words of pity.

At another table, Stan and Kenny silently ate their lunch. They usually talked while eating, but that day they were both rereading their notes for the upcoming history test.

"Oh, what the fuck", Kenny muttered eventually between two bites from his sandwich. "I'm giving up on this. It's no use." He grimaced sourly at his papers on WWI.

Stan was opening his mouth to reply when Kyle burst into the scene, throwing a newspaper on the table.

"Hi guys", he muttered, quickly taking a seat. "You should read this."

Kenny and Stan both threw a sideways glance at the unfolded newspaper. Usually Kyle was the only one who was sincerely interested in reading those things and usually he kept quiet about them, too. Unless it was something important, that is.

"What is it?" Stan asked and put his fork down.

"Stotch", Kenny mumbled, chewing on his sandwich. He pointed at a small article next to the large one about the third reunion of a well known boyband.

Kyle watched as Stan deciphered the tiny writing. The black haired boy's brow furrowed slowly as he read. "He was found dead in the Queer Quarter? Dude! That's not a place I thought he'd go to."

"Seen him there before." Kenny shrugged, more interested into his food than anything. "He's one of those leisure fags. He was, I mean."

"You're sure getting around, Kenny", Stan said without a trace of surprise. He resumed eating, thinking the news had arrived.

Kyle looked at his friends slightly unbelieving. "Don't you realize what must've happened?" he demanded, still pointing at the small article. "He was stabbed with a knife 16 times, says the newspaper."

"Sadly it wasn't you, jew fag", said a sneering voice behind Kyle.

"Would you _shut the fuck up_, fatass?" The redhead did not even need to turn around to know that the voice belonged to Cartman.

"Who're you talking about anyway?" Eric wanted to know. He sat down next to Kenny, the bench bending slightly under his weight.

Kyle took the newspaper without another word and was about to store it away in his bag. Cartman was faster though. He tore the pages from Kyle's hands and immediately found the small article that featured Chris Stotch. His look had been attracted by the headline.

"_Death in the Queer Quarter_?" Cartman blurted out, laughing. "Stotch was a fuckin' ass-rammer? I don't believe it..." His eyes still partly absorbed by the newspaper, Eric got up and walked over to where Butters sat. The others just rolled their eyes, knowing what was about to happen. Once Cartman got into _that_ mood, there was no stopping him.

Butters still sat there quite motionless. He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he noticed Cartman only when he stood right next to him. With a look of utmost confusion, Butters stared at the gleeful grin Eric wore.

"Guess what, Butters", Cartman said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"H...huh?" Butters frowned. "Whu...what is it, then?"

"Look at this, your father was a FAG! And it actually KILLED him!" Cartman smashed the newspaper next to Butters' plate for him to see.

Butters just stared at Cartman for a moment. His mouth hung open and his azure eyes grew wider and wider. Then, in a matter of seconds, he regained his composure. He closed his mouth and looked to the floor.

"I... know about him", was his only reply.


	3. The Police

The Police

As usual, Butters went home from school alone. That was what came along with not being allowed to get a license yet, everyone else would normally go by car in a small town like South Park.

He wore a blue rain coat that hardly protected him from the cold, plus his tight jeans were already soaked from the ground to his knees. Butters could not help shivering slightly, but he had done so all the time since Cartman had brought him the news. No doubt, the blonde boy knew where his father usually went when he went out alone. But that this place was also where he had to die…and how would his mother react?

Butters wiped his eyes. They were now blinded by tears, for the first time since it all had happened. It felt good to cry, almost as if a fence had broken down. Like he always did, Butters cried without a sound, tears streaming down his cheeks. Usually he still managed to smile when this happened, to convince himself that nothing could hurt him at all. That time, it did not work. It was the first time in Butters' life that he had lost someone close to him and it felt awful.

When he finally arrived at his house, Butters saw blue lights in the driveway. Blinking his tears away, he saw a police car and two officers who stood at the door, talking to his mother.

The boy faltered a moment, then he approached them.

"Butters, finally", Linda Stotch said as a greeting and beckoned him into the house. "These gentlemen want to talk to you." She dabbed her eyes with a tissue and led her son and the police into the living room.

"Uh, hi mom", Butters said flatly and got rid of his wet jacket before he took a seat on the sofa.

"Good day, young man", one of the policemen addressed Butters. He wore a polished uniform and a serious face. The man had a superficial look at the room before he sat down next to his associate.

"Hello", Butters replied insecurely. Actually, he had no idea what the police wanted to know but he was ready to tell them the truth about everything. After all, he thought that this bestial murder should be cleared up. Waiting for questions, he ran his slender fingers through his hair. It was quite wet.

"Don't you ruin the sofa, young man", Linda said softly in between sobs.

Butters looked up at his mother worriedly, then got up again. "Sorry, mom", he muttered and placed himself standing next to the carpet.

Linda sat down across from the policemen and clutched her used tissue with shivering hands. "Please…gentlemen, go ahead", she said in a low voice.

One of the policemen, who seemed to be the one in charge, took out a notebook and scanned both Butters and his mother. "As you both know, we are investigating the death of Chris Stotch. Please tell me what you know about that evening."

"My husband did not tell me where he went that night", Linda said in a complaining voice. "I learned about it only when it was too late."

Feeling the stare of the policemen on his face, Butters looked up. It was time for his interpretation of the night. "I…uh…could only assume where he went", the boy told them honestly. "He did not tell me either."

The policemen nodded in unison. "Was there anything strange about Mr. Stotch's behaviour that night?"

Linda brooded over that question for a short while. She dabbed her eyes once again, then she looked up at the officers. "Indeed…now that you mention it, it all seems to make sense. He kissed me goodbye as though we would never meet again. And his words…his last words were, take care of our son."

Butters' eyes widened at that. He turned around to stare at his mother, but she did not return his look. What she said almost made him cry again, but he forced back the tears successfully.

"Interesting", one of the policemen said and took some notes. "I have to say that what you just told us confirms our suspicion. Suicide." His colleague nodded affirmatively.

For a moment the living room was filled with silence, only Linda's silent sobs disrupted the stillness.

"Suicide?" Butters exclaimed then, meeting the others with disbelief. "But…"

"Please, baby, go to your room and dry yourself before you catch a cold…your duty is fulfilled. Isn't it, officer?" Linda looked from the policemen to her son and back.

Butters frowned with only a hint of anger as he was shooed out of the living room. He threw his wet sneakers into the hallway before he stepped upstairs.


	4. The Boys

The Boys

Shakey's Pizza was rather crammed with students in the afternoon, which was why Stan and Kyle usually avoided going there after lessons. That day, though, Kenny had talked them into meeting up for early dinner. Since he took small jobs here and there, he treated himself to some fast food every once in a while and going alone was just too boring for him.

To Kyle's dismay, Cartman had invited himself as well. For some reason, the boys still put up with him after all those years. Maybe, the redhead thought, it was simply the fact that every clique worked out better when it had an asshole in it.

"Did you see his FACE?" Eric grinned broadly, still finding joy in Butters' misfortune. He took a large bite from his pizza.

Stan sighed. "I think you went too far this time, dude."

"Yeah, fatass", Kyle chimed in. "Just because you don't have a father that doesn't mean you can't respect the mourning of others." He looked dead serious, though inside, he cheered for having blown a hit below the belt.

Cartman coughed and seemed taken aback for a split second. "What the fuck, jew?" he spat, obviously annoyed. He did not take another bite for he was afraid it might get stuck in his throat.

Kenny grinned and chewed silently on his pizza. He ate slowly, savouring the taste of rich peperoni and cheese. Eating had become one of his favourite hobbies. Though he did have a bit of money to himself now, having tasty food was still something special to him. No matter what he ate, though, it did not show on his lean body.

"Nah, really, Kyle is right. There are some borders you just shouldn't cross", Stan said sternly after a small pause. He resumed eating then. Accuses would not change anything for the better, so there was nothing they could do.

"Oh well, I hope at least they get that fucker and his knife", Kenny said with a hint of bother in his voice. "I'm not gonna like the danger of being stabbed. That hurts."

"Serves ya right for going to fag hangouts", Cartman snorted. "Honestly, I have no idea why I keep hanging with a bunch of fruitcakes."

"You don't have anyone else", Kenny remarked with a smirk. "And I bet you're gonna turn gay too, just by spending time with a bi-guy like me."

"I'd never." Eric's face showed traces of utter disgust.

Stan and Kyle exchanged a look. Both of them secretly thought along the same lines: they were annoyed with Cartman calling them a couple, when they were not. It made things so much more complicated when others poked their noses in.

"You just don't know what you're missing there." Kenny's face spread into a wide grin. He would never give up on his affairs. Unless he found someone he really loved, of course, that was what he told himself. He did not have a lot of hope anyone would ever love him back, though.

Cartman just gave a nauseated snort and went back to eating. He hated cold pizza even more than this discussion.

"You know what I think?" Kyle said eventually when he had finished his dinner. "It might be a nice gesture to go and visit Butters. I bet he hates spending the evening alone after what he's been through."

Stan looked up, chewing on the last bite of his food. "M'kay", he mumbled. "I'm with you, dude." He knew that Kyle considered Butters a good acquaintance, so why not come along.

Kenny nodded. "I'll join", he declared. "Mrs Stotch makes the best sandwiches." For some reason he felt like he had to find an excuse for his visit.

"That's great, guys", Kyle said with a smile. He did not even think about asking Cartman, who would probably ruin the good intentions of the plan.

"Go ahead, fags", Eric said and waved his hand as to dismiss them. "Greet the li'l sucker."

Kyle frowned and got up. Greetings from Cartman were not exactly a pleasant thing, he thought. He would not deliver them to Butters.


End file.
